The Anatomy of Wings by Karen Foxlee Page A

of the house on Amiens Road that day Beth's eyes were bluer than I had ever seen them. She smelled like Winfield Greens and Dad's beer and something else.
    “I didn't think you'd still be here,” she said after she called me down from the Nana Mouskouri lady's front steps.
    We rode the long way to the corner shop. She bought chewing gum and a bag of lolly hearts and she gave me a packet of candy cigarettes. My first lolly heart said YOU ’ RE COOL. Miranda's said the same. Beth's said BE MY SWEETHEART.
    “It's a sign,” said Miranda.
    “No it isn't,” said Beth.
    “You did it, didn't you?” said Miranda.
    “Yes,” said Beth.
    I lit up a candy cigarette, which is a practicing cigarette for smaller children.
    My second heart said YOU ’ RE BEAUTIFUL.
    “And you are,” said Beth. She tucked my hair behind my ear.
    We left Miranda at the gate to the caravan park and then wheeled our bikes home. We crossed Campbell Road and entered into the back of Memorial Park. I kicked a rock with my foot. Icounted my steps. Beth didn't say a thing. She didn't say don't tell Mum.
    That side of the hill always made me feel lonely. The path was rocky and choked in parts by lantana. Campbell Road disappeared quickly even though we could still hear it. The bush closed in along the path to get a better look at us. Crooked rain trees bent over and rattled their seedpods softly above our heads. Cicadas changed their tune as we passed. The only noise was our bike tires and our feet crunching on the path.
    When we turned into Dardanelles Court the sun was only just starting to set and Mr. O'Malley was singing while he swept his front yard. He sang “Botany Bay” very slowly; each word hung in the hot summer air and then dissolved. When Mr. O'Malley saw me he put out his hand and I sang a few lines with him from where I stood in the middle of the road but Beth walked ahead like she couldn't even hear us.
    She went straight to her room and lay on her bed with her knees drawn up to her chest. Mum came and stood at her door.
    “How was Tiffany?” she asked.
    “Good,” Beth said.
    “I think it's really nice you're still friends with Tiffany,” said Mum. “Even though you've got this new friend. You always need more than one friend.”
    “Yes,” said Beth.
    “Did you play with Tiffany's sister?” Mum asked me.
    She seemed extra nosy.
    “No,” I said, “but I found this.”
    I held up the possible whistling kite feather and twirled it.
    “Don't bring that inside, please,” said Mum. “It could be covered in bird lice.”
    She tried to take it off me but I dodged her and took it into my room. I opened my cupboard and took out my box marked FEATHERS, and put the feather inside. She didn't try to chase me.
    “Come and wash your hands, Jennifer,” she said.
    Mum came to my door and I closed the cardboard lid.
    “You know small children who handle bird feathers can get terrible diseases and some of them have even died,” she said.
    “Show me the facts,” I said.
    She made an annoyed noise.
    We heard Beth go into the bathroom and turn on the shower. We heard her slide the lock. Mum went away and then came back. The shower had been running for a very long time.
    “What are you doing in there?” said Mum with her ear pressed to the door.
    “Nothing,” Beth said. “I'm coming out now.”
    “Are you all right?” said Mum. “You look very pale.”
    Beth looked at her like it was a difficult question. A dangerous question. She crossed her arms. That she hadn't been to Tiffany's house was burning in painful letters all over her skin. She looked at Mum like she thought she already knew. Mum was trying to trick her. She could read the writing.
    “I just feel sick, that's all,” she said.
    She lay down on the bed and let Mum stroke her hair.
    I sat in the hallway with a pile of magazines and started ripping out pictures.
    “What are you doing?” Mum asked.
    “I need pictures of animals with fur,” I said. “I told you it